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“Yes, yes,” I pant, while he firmly grips my waist, granting himself every ounce of control.
“Again,” he orders, plunging deeper. “Now, Quinn. I’m not going to last much longer.” He groans, lifting my leg between thrusts, and resting my ankle over his shoulder. “Come for me again, baby.”
Another wave of my orgasm claims me, right on cue. It’s almost too much for me to handle. The pleasure so intense, it’s actually painful.
“That’s it,” he encourages, breathing hard. “Milk me dry, Quinn. Oh, fuck.”
Throwing back his head, he finds his release with one final thrust.
* * *
“What’s the matter?”Damien asks me.
Staring at the bare branches of our Christmas tree, I sigh. “Nothing,” I reply, forcing a grin.
Jensen wraps his arm around me, pulling me closer to him on the couch. “Don’t lie.”
“I guess I’m used to it being lit up.”
Micah enters the room, carrying a box. “You really thought we forgot.”
“Lights!” Kneeling beside Micah, I impatiently wait for him to cut it open. “Do you guys have any ornaments?”
He shrugs.
“Basement,” Damien answers.
“We have any more wood?” Jensen asks, poking at the flames in the fireplace with the iron pointer. “Wood that isn’t wet?”
“Quinn,” Damien sarcastically accuses.
“You’re hilarious,” I say, rolling my eyes.
After plugging the first set of multicolored lights into an extension cord, Jensen hands me the strand. “Need any help?” he asks.
“Not yet,” I tell him, placing the strand on the branches, starting at the bottom. “But I’ll need your height once I get near the top.”
Once we’ve finished decorating the tree with lights and ornaments, I snuggle up between Damien and Jensen on the couch, taking in the winding pathway of light from the base to the very top. The glow illuminates the deep green pine needles, and I breathe in the fresh aroma of sap and bark.
“It’s perfect,” I whisper, resting my head on Damien’s shoulder.
He lightly brushes his fingers through my hair. “You did good.”
“This is our first Christmas Eve together,” I point out, my eyes searching his.
“And many more to come,” he says, his voice promising.
“Can I be honest?”
Jensen’s grip on my thigh tightens, as he gently strokes my skin in circular motions with his thumb. “We always expect honesty from you.”
“I never expected this,” I sheepishly admit.
Micah steps away from the fireplace, as the flames crackle and wood pops, concern for me displayed in his eyes.
“Before I was yours—”
“You were always ours,” Damien sharply breathes, tightening his hold on me. “Let’s make that very clear.”
